Father, Father
by Anya Potter
Summary: An abusive father, how can Draco handle it? My first real try at a short story. Pretty sad ,but it kind of changed my view of Draco.


Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything. I own nothing, kay?  
  
Father, Father  
By Anya Potter  
"It doesn't matter anyhow. You would have shamed this family anyway, somehow, sometime. For some odd reason I am thankful it is now and not when Voldemort is back again. Because, mark my word he WILL be back, only this time... with vengeance." Lucius slapped me with all of his strength. I fell onto the cold marble floor, my lip bleeding and the back of my head aching, yet I still stared at him in defiance.   
"I didn't mean it." My voice echoed through the wide hall of the manor. I caught a glimpse of a couple of the house elves peeking at me, but not out of sympathy. Out of fear. Getting Lucius angry meant a death among their kind that night. He liked to take out his enormous amount of anger upon them. Also, my shirt was stained with blood and even house elves had a tough time getting blood out. Blood spilt from an anger wound had a way of sticking to material such as silk and never coming off. I shook away these thoughts and stared Lucius, my father, right in the eyes. His stare was cold and deadly. I finally turned my eyes away in defeat, for now.  
"How could you not mean it?" He took a step closer. His eyes and his voice were filled with a venom. A venom of death and destruction. "You kissed her. In front of me."  
"I didn't know you were there!" I burst out suddenly.  
"But you would have done it... if I wasn't near?" His stare grew colder. He was near killing me if I didn't stop.  
"It won't happen again." I murmured. Anything to get him to go. Anything.   
"It better not." He hissed. Signaling his personal house elf, Batto, he said coldly "Get dinner served, for Narcissa and I. The boy will have nothing." He signaled him away. Batto scurried away as fast as his bony legs could carry him. He did not want to be the victim of abuse, so he left me.   
I bit my lip nervously as I felt his cold, dark eyes bore into the back of my neck. I felt a whack to the back of my head. A lighter blow, yet still hard enough to make my vision cloud over. Another scar, I thought. I was never good enough for Lucius, no matter how hard I tried. "Don't disappoint me." His favorite saying. Every time he said it, I felt like smashing in his face, like he did with his elves and me.  
"Why her?" He grimaced and punched me in the gut. "Why not Viveldai, the one from Karkaroff's school? Karkaroff said she is from a well-known pure-blood family. Why not her?" He bared his teeth like some kind of horrible monster. I felt like saying: She is a brainless git that can't even pronounce my name right, much less carry on a conversation. But I couldn't. That would mean certain death. For me.  
"I don't know. I really don't." I replied, trying hard to sound sincere. I don't believe it fooled him, though.  
"It will never happen again. If I hear anything of the sort, you will be severely punished." He turned and walked into the family dining hall. That was the signal for me to go to my room. I stood there for a minute, contemplating suicide. If I killed myself, how would that affect my father? Would it damage his reputation? I shook the thought away, yet it still lingered in the back of my mind.   
I slowly walked to my room, my footsteps echoing in the marble hall. As I entered my room, I immediately walked to my closet and took out my broomstick. A NIMBUS3001, the newest, best broomstick ever made. Only the best for his son, Draco. Right. A hiss of air escaped my lips. I opened my enormous window and stared out at the moon as a gust of cool air swept into my room. The drapes swayed as I mounted my broomstick and rode off into the night. Over the trees. Over the streams. Over Malfoy Lake. I hoped I would one day be able to show Hermione the sunset over the lake. It was beautiful, yet indescribable.   
"Hermione." Even just saying her name made me relax. "Hermione!" I screamed as I finally broke down and wept as I had never before. As I touched the ground to clear the tears from my eyes, I saw it. A dagger. Laying perfectly on a glittering stone. I seemed to call to me. End it all now, it said. Stop the pain. You won't have to hurt ever again. I walked over, the pine needles crunching under my boots, the wind blowing through my white-blonde hair. I picked up the dagger and a burst of energy and hate burned through me. I would end it all. The dagger seemed to quiver, anticipating. I shook as I raised it up in the air. I grabbed my broomstick, jumped on and raced toward the manor, hate surging in my dark eyes.   
I burst into the manor, dagger in hand, crying:  
"Lucius! You have never loved me! You hate me! I'll end it all for you right now!" His eyes widened in surprise, yet he didn't move. Narcissa let out a gasp. I raised the dagger in the air.....  
.....and plunged it into my father's heart. He raised his head in surprise, his mouth forming a word, but then his hate, his anger, his abuse all ended... forever. Narcissa gasped once again, her eyes filling with tears.  
"Draco..." Her voice trailed off. I wasn't listening. I had gotten rid of the source of the pain so why did I still hurt? Why didn't killing Lucius end my pain? A power surged through me and my eyes held a fierce determination I had never felt before. I knew what I had to do. I once again raised the dagger in the air and....  
...plunged it into my chest. Pain. A memory of good times with my father at an amusement park. Was I three years old or four? Did it matter? It was the only good memory I held of my father. Memory or hallucination? On the carousel. Eating cotton candy. Remembering or fantasizing? The pain ended.  
Nothing.   



End file.
